Amaranth's Serenade
by NigelTux
Summary: She was desperate, so she did something. Something she hadn't done since she went to Hogwarts, since she discovered she was a witch. She went to back to her Family Occult. The Outsider was said to be a being of unfathomable power, a being capable of wrapping reality itself. Surely he if no one could grant her what she desired.
1. Chapter 1

Dying hurt, the boatman decides as he stares upward into the darkening sky from the floor of his beloved Amaranth. The sunset is exquisite- if not highly ironic- the different shades of orange, red, purple, blue and black clashing together like an inventive masterpiece emulsioned by some underalded Diety for the world to witness.

He could think of worse ways to die besides being oscillated gentle by the sea he loved within the one object he cherished most with such a wondrous view. For expample: _He_ could be here.

"Oh Samuel, what am I going to do with you?"

... He needed to learn to keep this thoughts to himself...

"I cautioned you not to let him in."

If this is going to turn into another _'I told you so'_ disquisition, the boatman wants to die faster. He doesn't want to hear how right the other was and how fallacious Samuel was for having optimism in a man he shouldn't have. He was already dying for his blunder the least the other could do was permit him to sucumb in peace.

An amused laughter filled the air before the night sky was replace with eyes reflecting the void.

"Sorry Samuel but I fear out indentures not finished just yet. After all," The smile upon the Diety's face reminded the boatman a lot of a shark detecting blood in open water, "You did promise forever."

The last thing Samuel Beechworth sees in the darkness of the void held within those unnatural eyes.

* * *

Its pitious, Erland can't help but think as he stares down at the body within the bottom of the Amaranth. He had always warned his boatman the other's kindness would see him killed. He had bluntly warned Samuel to stay away from Corvo Attano.

Corvo Attano was not a safe man to be around. He wasn't safe before the Empress' assasasintion nor his rather extended stay within the walls of Coldridge. Afterwards, The Royal Protector was fragmented, nothing more then a silent killer driven by revenge and monophonic protectiveness.

Maybe he should have done more? Been more forceful in his insistance the boatman avoided the man? He should have dragged the other, kicking and screaming if necessary, into the void for his own safely once the Boatman had made his intentions clear. Would it have made any differnence? The boatman cared too much and would have attmepted to help fix the broken man one way or another.

"I should have taught you to be more selfish."

Or at least how to tell when the person you where trying to help went from friendly into outright creep.

It doesn't matter now though. Samuel had died a rather messy and bloody death but Erland wouldn't permit the boatman to stay dead, he just needed to figure out exactly where he wanted to place the other...

Well there was one place he could think of.

* * *

Every since her son, Harry, had been announced stillborn; life had slowly but surely been crumbling around Lillith 'Lilly' Potter nee Evans. Her parents where dead, her sister dispised her soley for existing, an unforseen complication in the pregancy had left her barren, her son was dead before he even had a chance, and her husband couldn't stand to be in the same room as her- let alone actually look at or comfort her.

She was desperate, so she did something. Something she hadn't done since she went to Hogwarts, since she discovered she was a witch. She went to back to her Family Occult.

The Outsider was said to be a being of unfathomable power, a being capable of wrapping reality itself. Surely he if no one could grant her what she desired.

Though she had hoped, Lilly hadn't actually expected the ritual to work.

Yet there he stood holding a bundle of golden fabrics within his arms.

"His name is Samuel."

Emerald eyes glance, she could just see the tuffle of black hair and pale skin from within. A baby, the thought alone caused the rouge's fingers to twitch in the urge to snatch the young life away from the avatar before her. Yet she forces herself to resist the urge, stealing from a God wasn't a wise idea after all.

"Now, now Samuel. There is no need for such language even if she can't hear you. "

An amused smile twists onto those lips as void black eyes gaze down into the bundle accommodating an open fondness before they flicker onto her being as boredom becomes the prominent emotion.

"Lillith Potter, I have an assignment for you."

* * *

Samuel Beechworth wasn't a man to usually consider revenge.

He had witnessed first hand how it twisted and swiveled good men into monsters. He had heard the countless of screams as the once Royal Protector carried out his own revenge, he had witness the waters turn crimson, observed those crimson waters becoming nothing more then a sea of bodies wrapped in white. And to think he played a part of that, he had ferried death.

He had even attempted to save the monster that slathered death with its every breathe. He was naïve to actually believe he could aid the other, he sees that now, you can't rehabilitate someone who doesn't want to be after all. It was rather obvious how his endeavors turned out...

Samuel Beechworth wasn't usually a man to consider revenge, but right now; in the body of an infant being held to the bosom of a woman he knew to be a witch in a world of magic; Samuel was reconsidering his policy on revenge.

Witches...

Erland was giving him to a witch...

Good Gracious Father Above...

"Its not that bad Samuel."

Yeah right, being a witch in Dunwall- Natural Born of not- was practically the worst thing a person could be.

"Then its a good thing you're not in Dunwall."

 _...What?_

Samuel pities the man that is conjectured to be his father and he pities the lad he is supposed to replace. He abhors the woman that is presumed to be his mother. Adoption is brilliant and all by the once boatman's book yet to completely eradicate the memory of a child who never had a chance and make the world think he is that child...

It makes Samuel sick.

Since he is stuck in a infant's body his protest of the inhumane act against his moral code is rather petty. Lilly still hasn't figured out why he screams like a banshee every time she gets within ten feet of him. James just laughs and says it because he's a _'Daddy's Boy'_.

Samuel can feel his pity for the man growing with every passing second.

The once boatman doesn't believe in Prophecies, to be honest he fount many of them self-filling. If you openly acted, whether against or for a prophecy they tended to come about, but if you ignored them as a whole they would fade away into nihility. He also fount them exceptionally vague, holding an indefinite amount of ambiguous meanings and no practicable way for a lucid answer.

Then there was the issue of this prophecy having absolutely nothing to do with him.

For one, his parents had defied a tremendous number of people, but Samuel doubted a Dark Lord capable of using magic was on the list. Secondly, he was born on the tenth day of the Month of Clans- a time of ice, darkness, being ensnared within one's home and family- the Dunwall equivalent of December.

So why where they still going on about him or the Longbottom Child being the Prophesied One? Why where they discussing moving from the assured safety of the old Potter Manor and century old wards for the less then safe; Godric Hollow Cottage where loose lips -or cowardice, if they actually plan to use the rat-face Pettigrew- would get them all killed before morning tea?

Wizards, Samuel finds, have an unnatural lack of common sense. He ponders if its a Curse on the Society as a whole, after all, no one could possible be this stupid without outside aid...Right?

* * *

For now the first time in his life the man once known as Samuel Beechworth hates being right. James is likely dead downstairs, Lilly is lying on the floor before the once Boatman and his crib while a Dark Lords ashes rest across the room.

Erland is gone and if not for the scar on his head and the fact he wasn't as dead as everyone else in the household, Samuel would have thought he imaged the deity ever being there.

"Lilly!"

A man in black robes rushes into the room, dark eyes quickly darting about before landing on the woman upon the floor. The man doesn't even seem to realize Samuel is there as he cradles the body close, a pained bawl that could only come from a man who lost everything tearing from his throat.

Its a sound the once boatman has perceived too many times, one he had aspired to avoid hearing for some years to come. If he could, Samuel would walk away; but since he's currently trapped within a wooden prison the once boatman just looks away, permitting the man to grieve in the closest thing to peace he can offer.

Its only after the bat like man is gone with a sharp crack does Sirius appear. The man always reminded Samuel of an older, male Emily; so the boatman sees no problem in sleeping within the safely of his arms.

Its a mistake he promises not to make again as he's woken on a cold November morning, wrapped solely in only a thin practically burnt blanket to the sound of a shrill scream.

* * *

If Samuel is honest, he never liked horses.

They where beautiful, yes, but he never saw a reason to own one. Compared to the river and his beloved Amaranth they where a rather uncomfortable and a slow means of transportation. And unlike his beloved Amaranth, they tended to drop shit everywhere they went while prancing about all high and mighty.

Petunia reminds the boatman significantly of a horse. Every time she opened her mouth utter bullshit would come flowing out. Samuel likes the woman less then horses. At least horses didn't throw one year old into a dark cupboard and forget them for a week. He feels half deafened when the woman finally gets the dignity to check upon him only to scream at the sight of a completely heathy infant.

For some reason Samuel gets the intuition she had wished him dead.

* * *

 _Challenge: Harry Potter & Dishonored Crossover. SB as HP. Issues by Red Sova._

 _Erland: A name derived from Old Norse Erlendr meaning "Outsider" or "Foreigner"_

 _Amaranth: An imaginary flower that never fades_


	2. Chapter 2

By time he's four, Samuel has been abandoned more times then he cares to remember.

Honestly, the once boatman wouldn't have minded; if only he could manage to stay abandoned yet for some reason he always woke back within his cupboard. Horse would always scream upon seeing him and Walrus seemed to have developed a constant twitch but they where stubborn if nothing else.

So Samuel wasn't all that surprised when he was once more loaded up into Walrus' brand new car and driven even futher out then Walrus had ever bothered to travel before.

A solid seven hours and fifteen minutes further out.

He didn't believe Walrus could tolerate being in such a close proximity to him but maybe the animal in human skin was just as hopeful as Samuel himself was. The once boatman was all too eager to hop out of the vehicle once they reached what must of been Walrus' intended location.

"-and don't come back! You're not welcomed!"

There was a screech of rubber on asphalt as Walrus sped away, leaving the four year old standing on a sidewalk alone.

For most people in this world, Edinburgh Old Town was like taking a step back in time. For Samuel Beechworth though, if was like being back in Dunwall once more. The only true issue the incarnated toddler could find with the place was the uncomfortable fact it was landlocked.

Still Samuel felt he had time after all, it wasn't like he could sail a river let alone an ocean like he once did when he was physically a four year old.

The once Boatman is six, having spent two years as Samuel Beechworth once more- Samuel Potter just doesn't have the same ring to it as Harry Potter and he refused to steal a dead child's name- when the Outsider decides to show his inability to keep his hands out of the cookie jar which was now the Boatman's life.

The emerald eyed child spends a whole day being chased about by a well dressed man who looked like he should be heading to Sunday Church instead of chasing an Cathedral Charity Case around back alleyways.

Honestly, that alone should have informed him Erland was involved.

* * *

Dylan Rowthorn was thirty six years old yet his hair was already the color of freshly fallen snow, his eyes where of storms and his future as certain as the sky was blue.

At least, it used to be.

Growing up, Dylan had always heard tales of an Entity dubbed ' _The Outsider'_ from his Father's Parents. He had heard stories and legends of the Void's Embodiment. He had even observed a few of his Grandparents rituals.

It was a Legend, a Faith, a Belief- it wasn't real.

At least, that's what he thought before a man had appeared before him late one night only a week before. A man who wasn't a man, a man who was a Legend, a man who shouldn't exist.

This Being, this Deity, had arrived with a mission. A mission unlike any the stormy eyed man had ever been bestowed upon before.

 _"There is a child in great need of you, Dylan Rowthorn. His name is Samuel Beechworth, you will know him when you see him for he is the only one to bare my mark. "_

To be bluntly honest, Dylan had thought it all a dream. A delusion of his subconscious mind and had spent a week ignoring it until Fate, or maybe even The Outsider him, ensured their paths crossed.

The dark haired, emerald eyed Lad had been returning his dropped wallet to him when stormy eyes had first noticed the symbol on the back of the younger's hand and he took a chance upon his dream.

"Samuel, Samuel Beechworth?"

Emerald eyes had widened slightly, staring up at him in silent disbelief then some sort of understanding before the Lad had bolted as though his life depended upon it. Leading Dylan to his current issue.

Though it shamed Samuel to admit it, he panicked.

The once boatman didn't know who the man chasing him was, only that somehow, someway, the man knew him. It wasn't exactly a good thing considering he was certain he had never once crossed paths with the white haired man in either of his lives. Which left the question of how the hell did this man know him?

Honestly, the adult turned child wasn't sure he wanted to know considering the way one life had ended and the other was going so far.

Not really paying attention the emerald eyed child rushed out of the alleyway and directly into the street.

Considering how heavy traffic was that day, there should have been an accident. There should have been a broken body on the asphalt. There should have been a vehicle with a broken window and taints of blood.

Maybe if it had been a normal child there would have been but there wasn't. The child had ran out of the alleyway, directly into the oncoming traffic. He should have been hit, there wasn't any time to move, any time to so much as brace himself.

Yet he wasn't.

Even as emerald eyes had widened, the usually dull mark upon the back of the child's hand had gown like a beacon only moments before the child- Samuel, as the Outsider called him- vanished into thin air.

A heavy sigh left the elder man. Great, as if chasing the child around the town wasn't hard enough, now the Lad had mystic powers to add to the elder's trouble...

"I do not get paid enough for this."

* * *

When Samuel finds himself suddenly on the roof instead of the middle of the street, the once boatman can't help but look for Overseers while his other hand clamps tightly over the glowing mark.

His head darts back and forth, searching, waiting for one of them to show theirselves before common sense decides to kick in.

This is a new world, a new time, there are no Overseers.

And though there are those here who suffer from Religious Fanaticism, the Boatman would like to hope there are none around to see what he had done and if they did, Maybe they would believe it divine intervention?

Still, its probably best not to take any chances and return to the Cathedral as soon as possible.

* * *

St. Giles' Cathedral was more of a castle then the usual Cathedrals Samuel was used to. Dunwall, most of Cathedrals where a part of the military or so run down they literally ran only upon donations from the people. There where a spare few that where separate entities, most of which where actually someone's homes that they where willing to open up to strangers of the same Faith. The Cathedral was different with its broad range of tradition, contemporary and gothic styles that reminded him so much of a mixture of Dunwall's usual architect designs. Though the Crown Spire and stain glass windows- each holding an image that told its own part of a story- where a freshly new sense of taste. One Samuel fount he didn't quite mind.

The first floor was mainly for service.

The second was home for those fortunate ones the Pastor managed to relocate from the streets. It held everything a child would need; Food, shelter, comfort, clothing, Education...

Now Samuel didn't have anything against education it was just... Well, it was boring when you already knew everything they where attempting to teach which made it difficult to stay focus- something that droved his teachers mad.

His life wasn't perfect but it was good enough for Samuel. So really, it wasn't all that surprising the thought of adoption had never crossed the boatman's mind.

 _~Somewhere in Scotland~_

"I fear Harry Potter is missing. "


	3. Chapter 3

"Samuel, did you remember your scarf?"

"Yes Father."

"And your gloves?"

"I'm putting them on now Father."

"Smooth out your jacket, Samuel, those wrinkles are unsuitable for presentation."

Good God, it was like Samuel had taken a step back in time towards those olden day in Dunwall with his biological Father. The once boatman gives a mental sigh as his hands carefully smooth out the creases on his jacket and pants.

"Don't forget your bag, Samuel."

"I won't."

"Good Lad."

* * *

In the beginning, Hermione Granger had loathed Samuel Beechworth's existence.

He was intelligent, probably more so then herself but the highest the other's ambition seemed to reach was owning a boat named Amaranth and becoming a common, old time boatman. Though to be honest, it wasn't his dream of becoming a boatman that annoyed the slightly elder child but rather his intelligence and the way people treated him.

All her life, Hermione Granger had been both praised and shunned for her brilliant mind. She had held the spotlight all by herself for so long, having someone else- someone younger than her with no ambition whatsoever- suddenly steal it without even meaning or attempting to do so had been a blow to her pride. She didn't have friends, her family while supportive could never understand her. The spotlight, the possibility of a bright and enteral future was all she had, at least until Samuel Beechworth came along... but maybe that wasn't so bad.

The spotlight had been lonely and oh so demanding when she stood in it by herself and while he lacked ambition, Samuel Beechworth had plenty of kindness and an open heart to share. Something Hermione fount she desired much more then a spotlight that could be torn away at a moment's notice.

* * *

Hermione Granger reminded Samuel a lot of the boatman's second wife: Cassandra; in not only looks but personality. Bossy, intelligent, eager to please and so set in her ways she refused to so much as consider there was another path until they where upon the knife's edge.

The knife's edge had been exactly when Samuel had meet his second wife- it wasn't everyday a woman feel out of the sky and in his lap while setting the Amaranth to sail for what should have been just another day. Ironically enough, the knife's edge was where he would meet the Granger though thankfully this one wasn't looking to commit suicide only to fall into the laps of unsuspecting boatmen- Samuel wasn't quite sure how he would explain that one if history was determined enough to repeat itself to that extent.

As it was, Samuel fount himself with an extra shadow which dubbed itself his _'best friend'_ after doing the decent thing and talking the young brunette through a couple of her issues. Honestly, Samuel wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, the girl was so much like Cassandra he had to stop himself from calling her such every time she gave a resigned sigh followed by an amused yet lecturing _'Oh Samuel'_ , but on the other hand...

Well it made her happy, something she obviously wasn't before...

So Samuel supposed he could live with being her _'Best Friend'_ until she no longer needed him.

Samuel is six when he finds himself attending his own high school graduation and its all Hermione and Dylan's fault.

His adoptive Father, the Headmaster, and _'best friend'_ had tricked him; disguising the Graduation Exam as a bloody midterm surprise exam. If he was a lesser man, Samuel probably would have sworn revenge by now, but he's not. Instead he stands before them all, listening to the whispers while attempting to keep a smile on face. Its easier said then done but he manages to get through the session without once pulling a Corvo.

* * *

 _Darkness._

 _It surrounds him, devours at him._

 _He feels as though he can't breath._

 _There are voices in the distant, mumbling. Chanting. They're like waves in the ocean, raising only to fall and crash into one another._

 _Light._

 _Its dim at first, faint and so far in the distance he's unsure if he's just imaging it. Yet with every word it grows... No, with every word he finds himself being dragged closer and closer by some invisible force._

 _He tries to dig his hells in but there's nothing to do so with; only the empty darkness around him._

 _The voices are all but shouting in their strange language now as the light binds him, forcing him to close his eyes._

 _There's a sharp pull at his navel before the tugging and the voices cease._

 _"Samuel?"_

 _The voice is small, delicate and no doubt feminine. Its a voice he recognizes and knows well._

 _He opens his eyes and for a moment, the boatman swears he sees the Young Empress Emily before the Darkness yanks him back._

Samuel wakes on his bedroom floor, gasping slightly for breath, the faint echoes of a forgotten dream echoing- stubbornly out of reach- within his mind.

* * *

In another world, Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin First of her name, could only stare at the now void summoning circle before her- which only moments before housed what should have been Death but instead summoned the spirit of a long dead friend by the name of Samuel Beechworth- in shock and dismay.

"Bring him back!"

She demands but she knows they can't. It would take years to recollect everything they needed to attempt the summoning once more. Until then the only thing the young Empress could do was wait. So wait she shall.

Spinning on heel, Emily left the chamber her mind already plotting.

Samuel, he had been right there. Had she reached over the circle she could have touched him yet she dared not. They had been attempting to summon death to bargain for her Mother's Soul after all. So why had the kind hearted boatman from her memories showed in the deity's stead?


End file.
